Awake
by WolvesAtTheDoor
Summary: Harley snaps, finally freeing herself from the Joker. In the aftermath, Batman and his family will be there to help pick up the pieces.
1. ChapterOne

Author's note: this story will have references to multiple events across multiple media/canon, but it will hopefully be broad enough that you can imagine it as whichever versions of the characters you like best. Except for the live action movies, as they don't really lend themselves to a larger, more comic-booky universe.

Trigger warnings in this chapter: descriptions of violence, abuse, and attempted sexual assault.

...

Harley was scared. Of what, she couldn't say. It was a general sense of unease, fear of what was to come. In three days time she would be released from Arkham Asylum, not for the first time but she was determined, desperate, for it to be the last. Even now she didn't really know why she did what she did that night, almost three years ago. The night she saved Robin's life and cut ties with The Joker for good. However, she had no regrets about what happened. She and Mistah J- no, she thought, Joker, had interrupted some sort of holiday gala or other snot nosed blue blooded party taking place on the top floor of the Wayne Enterprises building. They had been intent on robbing the partygoers of all their cash and valuables, and if they happened to rob a few stubborn guests of their lives in the process? All part of the fun. The instant Joker had fired a shot in the air from his revolver, Bruce Wayne, who had been giving a speech in front of a podium in the middle of the room had turned and ran, disappearing through a door on the other side of the room amidsts panicked, drunken screaming.

Harley had seen him bleeding, choking, and nursing broken ribs. She had heard him swear, and laugh once. Only once. She had even seen him trip over his cape once, very early on. All of this, and one other occasion, led Harely to believe with a doubt and contrary to most other criminals in Gotham; the Batman was human. But when the skylight above them shattered, raining glass all around them as a massive black shape with glowing white eyes hurtled down towards them, in that moment, Harley felt sure he was some sort of monster. A spirit, or wraith, born from the blood coating the streets of Gotham to punish the wicked and serve the righteous. Batman landed right in front of the Joker, snatching the pistol from his hand before he'd even fully recovered from the shock, wondering how the hell did Batman get there so damned fast?

"Playtime is over, Joker." He stated, his already deep voice augmented somehow. Harley quickly snapped out of her shock and hoisted her cartoonishly large but very real hammer over her shoulder, preparing to swing.

"You're forgettin' someone Bats!" She hollered before swinging as hard as she could at his head... She blinked, confused, as her empty hands swished through the open air in front of her.

"Actually, I think you're the one that forgot something lady." An obnoxious voice sounded behind her. Harley whirled around, her eyes widening briefly then narrowing in rage at the boy standing before her, twirling her hammer absentmindedly over his head.

"You! Give that back ya' little shit!" She said, stamping her foot. Robin just chuckled before bringing the hammer down in front of him and leaning on it. The boy couldn't be older than twelve or maybe thirteen, but already he annoyed her far more than even Batman ever could.

"Harley, you idiot!" The Joker snapped, making her clamp her mouth shut and spin back around to face him. "Forget the birdy, we got bigger fish to fry!" He grinned, a small knife sliding out of his sleeve and into his hand before slashing wildly at Batman.

Batman dodged the attack easily, catching the Joker's wrist and twisting it, not enough to break but enough that he gave a sharp cry of pain and dropped the blade.

"Puddin'" Harley cried before rushing forward, only for Robin to catch her foot with the head of the hammer, causing her to fall flat on her face, momentarily stunned. Batman then grabbed the Joker by his collar and lifted him up in the air, nearly a foot off the ground. The madman simply giggled, nothing but joy in his eyes as if it were simply his older brother swinging him through the air, pretending he was a plane. "You're both going back to Arkham, and this time you won't be getting out." Batman snarled, barely containing his rage. He had been hunting the Joker relentlessly for nearly a year after what he'd done to Barbara Gordon, one step behind him all the way. Now he finally had his hands on him, and it took every ounce of his immense will not to dash his head against the marble floor until his brains were showing.

"That's where you're wrong kiddo!" The Joker laughed as acid sprayed forth from the flower pinned to his lapel, hitting Batman right in the eyes. His mask withstood the corrosive substance but the lenses covering his eyes immediately began to melt. He dropped the Joker, stumbling backwards and swiping at his eyes, attempting to remove the lenses before the acid ate all the way through and caused serious damage. "Batman!" Robin shouted, dropping Harley's hammer and rushing to his partner's side. Harley lifted her head, blinking the fog from her eyes as she saw Batman hunched over, Robin hanging onto his shoulder, panicking at the fact that he wasn't able to help. Huh, she thought. He really is just a kid ain't he? He acts all tough but he's still just a little boy. Something in her seemed to stir at the thought, a hazy image of another Robin, years ago, clouding her mind. The a purple gloves hand swam into view, reaching for the pistol that she hadn't even realized Batman had dropped in front of her. For a moment she hoped her Puddin' would also help her to her feet, but he barely spared her a glance. Calmly, like he were just doing some mundane task, he walked over to the dynamic duo, a smile on his face and evil in eyes, before dropping the hammer back on the revolver and pressing the muzzle against the back of Robin's head, right behind his left ear. Harley watched the boy go still, his body tensing as he realized what that sound was, his young mind struggling to comprehend what was about to happen. Suddenly she was standing in a long abandoned warehouse, a camera in her hands, looking down in barely masked horror at the bloody, broken Robin on the floor in front of her. She felt his blood on her face, mixing with the makeup and running down to her chin. The Joker stood next to her, his grip on the crowbar impossibly tight as he continued to viciously beat the boy before them. She had listened to his screams of agony for nearly an hour, but now he was still and quiet, as if he couldn't even feel the blows anymore. Sickened, Harley realized that he probably couldn't. This infuriated Joker, who only beat him harder before heaving a great sigh. "It's no fun if you don't scream kid." He muttered, almost to himself. He shrugged, a telltale sign that he was done with his little game, before raising the crowbar a final time and burying it in Robin's skull, finally killing him.

"Oh well. Let's go home hun." He said, as if he simply hadn't been able to find something he wanted at the store. It was as they drove off into the night, away from the warehouse that was rigged to blow, she heard it. A strangled, agonized wail that cut through the darkness and straight into her heart as she realized Batman had found the body of his partner, his friend, his son. That was the night she knew without a doubt that Batman was human. That was the night she stopped laughing as much at her Puddin's jokes, the night she started flinching a little more any time he made a sudden move. She had finally seen what everyone else saw when they looked at Joker, and try as she might to ignore it, she couldn't help the doubt that creeped at the back of her mind from that day on. Now she watched, feeling helpless as Joker was about to do it again, kill another of Batman's children. It hadn't been a one off, it hadn't been out of rage, or for revenge. Joker had killed that boy for fun, plain and simple. And she had helped, by standing idly by and watching it happen, she may as well as have killed him herself.

...no. No.

NO!

In an instant she was on her feet, swiping her hammer off the ground where Robin had dropped it. Something in her broke, and Harleen Quinzel took control again. And she saw some deranged fucking party clown about to murder a little boy in cold blood.

"You sick, sadistic, callous, motherfucker!" She hissed through gritted teeth, spitting the last word like it was poison on her tongue. Joker turned to look at her, head cocked in confusion before his eyes widened in fear at the look on her face as she brought her hammer around in a wide arc, fully intending to take his head off with one mighty swing. He stepped aside, but not quite fast enough as the hammer connected with his shoulder, shattering his collarbone. Robin's instincts and training finally kicked in as he dropped to the floor just as the gun went off, the bullet pinging harmlessly off of Batman's armor and imbedding itself in the wall on the other side of the room. Stunned guests and stunned vigilantes watched as Joker stumbled sideways, clutching at his ruined shoulder, eyes wild as he stared at Harley in disbelief. Batman had finally removed the ruined lenses from his cowl and he simply stared at Harley for a moment, not daring to believe she'd finally snapped out of Joker's spell. "Quinn?" Robin said breathlessly, not understanding what had just happened. She stalked towards him, hammer raised threateningly, and in that moment Joker seemed to suddenly remember that he was the one with a gun. Thinking back, Harley couldn't remember hearing the gunshot, the rush of blood in her ears drowned out any other sound. But she certainly felt it rip through her chest, just barely missing her heart as she was rocked backwards by it, straight into Batman's arms. Joker turned and ran, knowing Batman wouldn't leave Harley to give chase, and he disappeared through the same doors Bruce Wayne had used, presumably towards the elevators. Batman held Harley close, pressing a hand to her chest to stem the flow of blood as he barked an order to Robin, or maybe even one of the guests, she didn't know or care in that moment. She was too focused on the fact that she was seeing Batman's eyes for the first time as they stared at her with worry, rage, and intense focus, seemingly all at once. She was delighted to learn that his eyes were the same shade of blue as hers.

"Hehe, neat." She whispered, before everything went black.

It was almost two weeks later that she woke with a start in the med bay at Arkham Asylum. Tubes and wires were sticking out of her at all angles it seemed, and from all places she noted with disdain. A nurse to her right had just finished changing her I.V and was startled when she realized that Harley was looking at her. "Goodness, you're awake!" She said, along with the other staff members of the Arkham hospital wing she had expected Harley to never wake up.

"How come I ain't tied down?" Harley asked quietly, her voice raspy, throat dry. The nurse just smiled, shaking her head, "he wouldn't let us." She said simply, nodding towards the other side of the bed before walking off to check on the other patients. Harely turned her head to the left and gasped as her eyes settled on the man sitting next to her bed. Batman sat there in a too small plastic chair, his chin resting on his chest as he dozed. She noted with great shock that the bat symbol on his chest was wrecked, two large holes surrounded by smaller dents bending it inward. Someone had caught him square in the chest with both barrels of a shotgun. Sloppy, she thought, something' musta distracted him, otherwise some two bit jackass with a sawed-off never woulda got him. She cringed slightly, realizing that that something may well have been her since he seemed to have come here to check on her after his nightly patrol. She also realized that despite the beating she knew his armor could take, surely he must have a few cracked ribs at least. Why hadn't he gone home to get treated? Or back to his cave... Or Hell, where he probably came from.

She laughed a little at that before stopping short, a coughing fit wracking her body and a sharp pain shooting through her chest. The sound woke Batman, who instantly vanished, reappearing on her other side a moment later with a small paper cup filled with water. She drank slowly, smiling when she was finished.

"Thanks, B-Man..." she whispered.

The memory made her smile, it was the start of her strange friendship with Batman. Over the last three years as she was rehabilitated, both physically and mentally, he had visited her at least once a month. He didn't speak much, opting to just listen to her ramble on, switching from topic to topic at breakneck speed. It took nearly a year for her to believe that he wasn't angry with her, that he didn't blame her for anything the Joker had done. She was thankful that they rarely talked about him, and felt blessed that the crazed clown hadn't tried to contact her. After his shoulder healed he just went back to his same old schtick as if he'd never even met Harley Quinn. Over time Batman began to warm to her, speaking a little more freely, shocking her to the core when he started leaving his voice modulator off while they talked. He started to bring her gifts as well, usually books, producing them seemingly from thin air, like a magician, making her giggle every time. After the first few months when Batman was convinced she was serious about wanting to change, he had spoken to Doctor Leland about transferring her to the minimum security wing. No longer was she confined to a 6x6 plastic box, monitored every second of the day. Though the door locked from the outside and there were bars on the small window, for the first time in a long time she had an honest to goodness bedroom. She was almost going to miss it, she decided as she climbed into her small bed, thumbing the knot of scar tissue on her chest through the thin material of her nightshirt. She considered reading a few chapters of the latest mystery novel Batman had given her (she was convinced that he had the entire Hardy Boys collection hidden somewhere wherever he called home, but he would neither confirm nor deny this) but decided against it as she flopped down on her pillow, turning on her side and closing her eyes. Not ten minutes later however, just as she was on the verge of falling asleep, she heard a strange clinking sound, like metal on metal, then a small, insistent whirring sound. She could've sworn she'd heard it before, but chose to just ignore it. But as the sound got louder and more urgent, she gave a small huff before sitting up and looking over at her window, more pissed than curious.

No. No no no no no no no no-

A second after she realized that the hook from a wench had been clipped onto the bars on her window, it and a large portion of the wall around it was ripped from the side of the building. And there he stood, grinning like the maniac he was. "Honey! I'm hooooooooome!" The Joker announced before stepping through the hole in the wall. Harley was frozen in fear, having nowhere to go and nothing to defend herself with. The Joker glanced around her sparsely decorated room, his gaze landing on the desk next to her bed; piled high with books and toys and every other trinket Batman had brought her to help pass the time. His eyes narrowed, as if he knew where the gifts had come from. It terrified Harley to think that he probably did.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered, hating how small her voice sounded. Without warning he sprung forward, flying through the air and landing on the bed beside her, one hand on his hip and the other propping up his chin. "Why, I'm here for you of course! Thought I'd spring ya a few days early, just 'cuz" he said with a wink, trailing his fingers over her hip. She suppressed a shudder at his touch, his rancid breath and warped smile making her nauseous. Not for the first time she wondered how she had ever thought of him as anything other than revolting.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." She said, eyes narrowed, glad not to hear the fear she felt in her tone.

"Oh Harley" he said with a tsk, "still mad? I thought I'd give you some space, let you cool off a little. Guess I need to teach you a lesson? Remind you who you belong to." His eyes narrowed, smile gone from his face as he gripped the front of her flimsy shirt, ripping it open effortlessly. She smacked him, hard, but unfortunately seemed to hurt her hand on his bony face more than she'd hurt him. He chuckled darkly before back handing her twice as hard, making her see stars as he pushed her down on the bed. Her blood ran cold and her fear was amplified tenfold as she realized that none of his goons were outside. That meant they were spread out in the rest of the asylum, causing mayhem, causing a distraction. Batman won't get here in time. She thought, closing her eyes as tears streamed down the sides of her face. She turned away as Joker tried to kiss her, he gripped her chin and wrenched her head back around to face him, oozing hatred. She was proven wrong a moment later though as she heard something whip through the air, the Joker crying out in pain. A batarang, not one meant for distraction but one made purely of cold, hard, razor sharp steel, embedded itself in the Joker's shoulder; the near surgical precision of the expert throw slicing through the nerves of the brachial plexus. The hand holding her face went limp as Joker lost feeling in his arm and he cried out again as a grappling hook was shot at his ankle; not wrapping around the ankle as it had done so many times before but going through it. He screamed as he was dragged off of her and back through the hole he had made into the darknened courtyard outside. Harley climbed off the bed, shakily standing and walking over to the hole, one arm propping her up on the wall, the other covering her exposed breasts. She listened intently, waiting for the banter that was always traded before Joker either escaped or was knocked out by Batman. But it never came. Instead she just heard a dull pounding, over and over, and after a moment each thud started to sound slightly wet, like meat being tenderized, and with a start she realized that's exactly what was happening. She climbed through the hole and ran to Batman, hunched over the Joker, one knee planted firmly on the ground, his foot pinning Joker's good hand above his head as he rained blow after blow down on his face. Harley gently wrapped her arms around him from behind, pulling him backwards and off of the Joker. "It's okay Batman, it's okay. It's over." She whispered as she led him away from the mangled clown. His face was barely recognizable, more red than white. Both of his eyes were already swollen shut, and most of his teeth were missing or broken. Harley couldn't tell if he was unconscious or dead, she didn't care either. Batman leaned against her, breathing heavy as his eyes screwed shut, willing himself to calm down. Harley removed the shredded bits of her shirt, not caring if Batman saw her almost completely naked, and used them to try and wipe some of the blood off of his face. She confirmed what she already knew, that not a drop of it belong to the Batman. The act startled Batman, snapping him out of the rage fueled fog he seemed trapped in as he took in the small woman before him. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, lithe and agile, with the musculature of a seasoned gymnast. She was breathtakingly beautiful, even to someone as jaded and emotionless as he had trained himself to be. Slowly he reached up and unclasped his cape, removing it and wrapping it around her shoulders. She smiled at him and melted into his arms, wiping away the tears she hadn't realized she'd still been shedding.

"Thanks B-Man..." she whispered.

Nearly an hour later Harley sat under a tree in the courtyard, still wrapped in Batman's cape, having refused to give it up in exchange for a new shirt. She watched as Batman and Nightwing engaged in a heated debate with Commissioner Gordon and Doctor Leland, her one time mentor and current psychiatrist. She only caught snippets of their conversation but knew it was about her. Doctor Leland was apparently advocating that after tonight's nearly traumatic event Harley should stay for at least a few more weeks for evaluation, and Gordon had been against releasing her at all. "-too fucking dangerous and you know it!" She had heard him nearly shout at Batman before calming himself and returning to the hushed tone he was using before. When questioned as to how he got to her so fast, Batman explained that he was alerted the instant the alarm was tripped in the minimum security wing. He had instructed Nightwing to take one side of the island and Robin, sorry, Red Robin she thought with a small huff of laughter, to take the other. Batman would take the middle and the two younger crime fighters would meet him there. He knew exactly where the Joker would go and that his henchmen were meant to slow him down. Joker himself was alive, for now, having been loaded onto a stretcher and taken for medical treatment. It was unclear if he would ever wake up, having sustained massive brain damage. In his rage Batman had essentially beaten the man into a coma.

Harley felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see the newly minted Red Robin standing next to her, an awkward smile on his face. He had a spiffy new suit too, black and red (nice, she thought, obviously inspired by moi) with a cowl similar to Batman's, minus the pointy ears. He was a few inches taller than when she'd last seen him, and not quite so scrawny anymore, but looking close she could tell he was still the same cocky little shit she'd last seen nearly three years ago. "Hey kid, long time no see. Nice suit" she added with a wink, smiling warmly at him.

"Thanks, I designed it myself" he said, clearly proud, "it's uh, it's good to see you again. I'm glad you're okay." This surprised her, after all she had done she didn't think many people cared that she was even alive, much less about how she was doing. Her smile widened as she noticed Nightwing and Batman heading towards her. She could tell the first Robin was uneasy, though Batman remained stoic and unreadable as ever. Behind them Doc Leland was glaring daggers at their backs, while Gordon was simply walking away, shaking his head. Nightwing stopped short a few paces away, crossing his arms. He breathed a sigh, glancing at Red Robin. "For the record", he said, masked eyes landing on Harley, "I think this is a terrible idea." Batman just ignored him, offering Harley his hand a pulling her to her feet. "Are you ready to go? I'll send for your belongings tomorrow." He said.

"Uh, sure? Where exactly am I goin' B-Man?" She asked, glancing between the three heroes.

"...I'm taking you home."

...

If you don't review and let me know you want more, then I won't know if I should keep writing or not will I? :p no promises on how often I'll update but this story will be multiple chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: if you enjoyed the first chapter please be sure to leave a review, I won't know if I should continue this unless you guys say so. Trigger warnings for this chapter: N/A

...

Harely was a ball of nervous energy, the adrenaline from the night's events still coursing through her system. Add that to the fact that she was about to ride shotgun in the Batmobile? And not as a prisoner? It took everything she had not to start pressing buttons the instant she was seated. The engine roared to life and the monstrous vehicle, like a mix between a tank and a short limousine, took off down the highway leading away from the gates of Arkham Asylum. "So B-Man, where are we headed?" Harley asked, turning to the caped crusader. He kept his eyes on the road, focused and calm even as the Batmobile tore past the Gotham city limit at well over one hundred miles per hour. He ignored Tim and Dick bickering in the backseat as he addressed her, "it was meant to be a surprise, I was going to tell you when you were officially released next week but... Oracle has set up an apartment for you, the rent has been paid for the next year to give you time to get back on your feet. If you prefer you can still move back in with your mother as planned but-"

"No!" Harley practically shouted, eyes wide in surprise, both at her friend's generous offer and her own lack of self control. "I mean, no, that's okay. Ya really didn't have to go to so much trouble but if yer offerin' then who am I to refuse?" She said, shrugging. Harley loved her mother, she truly did, but she knew if they lived together again for too long that one of them would wind up killing the other. Not to mention the fact that every time her mother had visited her in the past three years, she hadn't made it five minutes into small-talk without bursting into tears; overjoyed that Harley was finally turning over a new leaf and simultaneously blaming herself and Harley's late father for her daughter's life going off the rails to begin with.

"Wait." Harley said. "Who's Oracle?"

She could practically feel the air shift, as the two boys behind her went still, both of them looking anxiously at Batman, waiting for his response. The man himself said nothing at first, debating on how much to tell her. He seemed to make up his mind as he glanced at her nervous, expectant expression. "Batgirl. The first Batgirl. She was... Wounded, several years ago. Badly enough that she could no longer operate in the field. Now she's our eye in the sky, handling all of our security, finances, communications, etcetera..." Batman said, trailing off for a moment. "She's also a world class hacker, she can get into a building's mainframe before any of us can even get into the building." He explained, careful not to mention how she was hurt, or by whom. Harley had wondered where Batgirl had gone over the years, she had just assumed the red head had retired, maybe gone off to college or something. Now she knew she'd been hurt so badly she simply couldn't fight anymore. Even though Harley had rarely spoken to her, and it was always as enemies, she felt a sharp pang of sorrow for the young woman, who was always so incredibly fierce and driven; but had been, in essence, cut down in her prime.

"I'd like to meet her again someday. I know you guys don't trust me with secret identities and all that jazz yet, some less than others" Harley said, glancing over her shoulder at Nightwing. "But maybe one day, if we ever get there. Just to tell her I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused." Harley went quiet after that, staring out her heavily tinted, bullet-proof window. It wasn't long before the Batmobile pulled up in front of a non descript high-rise, clearly nothing super fancy but not a run-down slum like a lot of Gotham's apartment buildings. Harley already loved it.

"The building is owned by Wayne enterprises, off the records." Nightwing said from the back, "it may look pretty plain but it has state of the art security. The doorman, Gary, is an old friend. He's always armed, and he has a direct line to Batman in case of emergency. No one gets into this building who isn't supposed to without us knowing about it." At Harley's confused stare he elaborated, "Bruce Wayne set this place up as a sort of home away from home. Somewhere he could go that the paparazzi didn't know about if he needed to lay low for a while, his penthouse is on the top floor. And we-" he said, gesturing to himself and the other two vigilantes, "use it to hide out from time to time too. Perks of having a billionaire for a friend" he added, grinning. Batman had explained once that Bruce Wayne was quietly bankrolling their operation when she asked where he got the money for all his toys. Harley returned Nightwing's smile before looking at Batman. "So? What's next?"

"Next," he said, holding up a key with, presumably, her apartment number printed on it. "You go get some sleep. Your apartment is on the fifth floor, at the end of the hallway to the right when you step off the elevator. Nightwing was just visiting, luckily he was here to help but he needs to get home. That and Robin and I- Red Robin," he added, the barest hint of frustration in his voice. It seemed he maybe wasn't too keen on his youngest protégé's sudden name change. If the boy sitting behind her noticed, he chose not to comment. "- And I need to finish our patrol. I'll come check on you in the morning, alright?" He asked, his face a stoic mask but his voice kind. She took the key without question, smiling brighter than she had in years.

She leaned over the console, careful not to hit any buttons for fear of something blowing up, and wrapped her arms awkwardly around Batman's neck. He didn't return the embrace, he rarely did, but it had been over two years since he last flinched away from her touch like he thought she might stab him. Which, to be fair, she did do once or twice. "Thanks, B-Man... For everything." She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear before pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He smiled, so slightly most people wouldn't have noticed, but Harley did.

"You boys behave yourselves now" Harley said as she climbed out of the vehicle, wagging her finger at the three like a scolding mother. The second she vacated the passenger seat Nightwing took her place, pulling himself from the backseat to the front in one smooth motion, pushing Red Robin out of the way as he did so. Harley just chuckled at their antics, and laughed even harder at the look on Batman's face as he glared at his oldest son.

"See ya tomorrow Bats, and I'll see ya when I see ya boys." She said, giving a mock salute as she turned and headed into the building, listening to the Batmobile's tires screech as it tore off down the street the moment the door closed behind her. She waved to the doorman, a gruff, serious looking mountain of a man. Gary? Is that right? She thought, glancing at his nametag to confirm. He was much older than her, nearing sixty it seemed, but was nearly as big as Batman himself and she knew in an instant that he wasn't to be messed with. He smiled politley at her from behind his standing desk before returning his gaze back to his hands, hidden from her view, but she knew from the sound of metal on metal and the telltale smell of gun oil that he was cleaning a weapon. She quickened her pace to the elevators, not ready to risk annoying the man before she actually got to know him. She hit the button for the fifth floor and the doors slid shut without a sound. Humming along with the Mozart that played quietly from the speakers, she pondered what to do next with her life. She could try to practice again, maybe go back to Arkham, a doctor once more, and this time actually help people. But it was too risky, she decided. She didn't want to chance being in the same building as the Joker if he ever woke up again. She already hated the fact that she was still in the same damn city as him, but Gotham was her home, and she wasn't going to let him take anything else from her. The doors opened with a mild ping and she stepped out into the hall, turning to her right. The floor was a simple, off white carpet with painted dark blue walls. Potted ferns guarded both sides of the elevator doors and tacky paintings that probably cost less than fifty dollars each adorned the walls in intervals. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about this place at all, she decided, which made it a perfect place to hide out while she started piecing together her new 'normal' life. Before she knew it she was at the door to her new home. With a deep breath she slid the key into the lock and slowly pushed the door open. A second later a small purple batarang planted itself in the doorframe next to her head. Harley shrieked and fell back into the hallway, landing painfully on her backside. Her eyes grew wide with shock as she took in the young woman sitting about ten feet away from her in, what she assumed, was her new living room. Sitting, in the most expensive looking wheelchair Harley had ever seen, with her arm raised and ready to throw another batarang, was Barbara Gordon, the police commissioner's daughter. Barbara's face matched Harley's as both simply gaped at each other, neither sure what to do or say.

"You... Uhm. You weren't supposed to be here for another three days." Barbara said, as if that in any way explained what she was doing there.

Harley's gaze went from her eyes, to her mouth, to her long red hair, to the purple batarang in her still raised hand, to the fancy looking tablet computer in her lap, and finally to the motorized chair she sat in. Barbara cringed at the sudden look of realization on Harley's face.

"Holy shit, you're Batgirl!" She exclaimed, pointing excitedly. Then her arm fell limp at her side, her face going blank as her gaze became unfocused. She's Batgirl, she thought, and Batgirl was hurt too bad to keep being Batgirl. But Barbara Gordon was... The Joker attacked her and...

Harley looked up again, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as she whispered, almost to herself.

"You're Oracle."

...

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	3. Chapter3

Harley has seen weird. She's seen weirder than weird. From giant crocodile and shark monsters tearing pieces out of each other to a dwarf in a top hat buttering biscuits for a rabbit. But there was something especially bizarre about watching the Police Commissioner's daughter bustling- wheeling?- about her previously untouched kitchen, pulling gadgets from her chair or pockets or seemingly out of thin air to assist her whenever she couldn't reach something as she nervously made tea for them. Harley sat at her new kitchen table, her first kitchen table, really; as Barbara poured two steaming cups and brought them over.

"So, uh, what exactly where you doing here?" Harley asked, watching as Barbara pushed the chair on the other side of the table out of her way before taking it's place.

"Well, I was updating the software for the building's security system. I could've just done it remotely from the... place where we, uhhh..."

"The Batcave?" Harley asked. She would've found it funny, how uneasy the young woman in front of her was, if she weren't just as uncomfortable. She tried not to think about her time with The Joker very much, but now she couldn't help remembering how hard she had laughed when he recounted the story to her, giggling all the way as he told her how he'd almost driven James Gordon mad. She hadn't known how bad it was until after she left him, his twisted version of the story almost making him out like he was the hero. Now the thought that she had laughed at what he'd done? Simply because it had made him so happy? It made her feel sick as she struggled not to start crying again.

Barbara's eye twitched at Harley's words. She, like almost everyone in his family save for Alfred, had cautioned Bruce against telling Harley anything personal, even something that was seemingly innocent. She was trying very hard not to be angry about the fact that Harley knew who she was now.

"Yes, the Batcave. But I don't like being cooped up there for too long so I figured I'd do it in person. So, what are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be released for another three days." She questioned, quirking an eyebrow at the puzzled look on Harley's face. "Ya mean Batman didn't say?"

Barbara sighed, sipping her tea before removing her glasses and rubbing her tired eyes. "He doesn't tell me nearly as much as he should. I got the alert when Arkham's alarm was tripped and sent it to him, then I asked if he needed me back at the Cave and he just said 'no, we've got it covered'", Harley chuckled slightly at Barbara's impression of Batman. "Then he hung up on me and I haven't heard from any of those jerks in almost" she said, checking her watch, "three hours. So, care to fill me in?" Harley took a deep breath as she wrapped her hands around her previously untouched tea. In a quiet voice she began to relay the night's events, leaving out what the Joker tried doing to her just before Batman arrived, not wanting to to remind Barbara of what he'd done to her though Harley was sure she was thinking about it anyways. There was a dark glint in Barbara's eyes, something akin to malicious glee hardly befitting a superhero as Harley told her the Joker was currently in a braindead coma, Batman having beaten him to within an inch of his life. Harley tried not to think about how close he came to breaking his only rule, though she was certain he would've continued until his hands were broken and he was just punching a red smear on the ground had she not stopped him. She then told Barbara of Batman and Nightwing's arguement with her father, and her early release.

"Then he gave me the key and dropped me off, and here we are." She finished, her shoulder's sagging as she was finally hit by just how tired she was.

"Holy shit." Barbara breathed, wide eyed as she took in the story. "Well, here's hoping the son of a bitch never wakes up." She muttered.

Harley smiled slightly, raising her mug. "I'll drink to that." She said, laughing softly. Barbara seemed to debate something for a moment before pointing a thumb over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow. "Ya know, the pantry is fully stocked, we didn't really know what you liked so Batman had me order a little of everything, and I'm pretty sure there's wine, too." Harley's smile turned mischievous as she stood to go confirm her new friend's suspicion.

...

Several hours later, as dawn broke over Gotham, a large black shape moved silently through the city, almost flying from rooftop to rooftop before shooting suddenly to the apex of a non-descript highrise apartment building. The Batman landed silently, moving swiftly to what appeared to simply be a rather large rooftop air conditioning unit. He removed the gauntlet and glove from his right hand before pressing his palm to a seemingly random panel, and a moment later the entire unit began to ascend, revealing the elevator that was housed underneath. He stepped in and as soon as the doors were closed he removed his cowl. Bruce was beyond tired, the previous night's events having worn on his already frayed nerves. He'd come closer than he ever had to outright murdering a man with his own two hands. Of course, some enemies had died in the past, usually caught in the crossfire or killed by their own hubris. And while he often blamed himself for not being able to save them, he had never directly killed anyone himself. The fear of what he might become if he ever crossed that line was ever-present, and it was even more so now. The elevator ride was brief as only a moment later he stepped inside his penthouse on the top floor. In recent years it had become something of a sanctuary to him, the one place on earth that was truly private for him, inaccessible to anyone but himself and his most trusted allies and even then it was only with his express permission. Even Clark Kent, whom Bruce considered the closest thing he had to a brother, had never set foot in this place. Normally when Bruce was here it meant the city was relatively at peace, and he could afford himself a few precious moments of quiet relaxation. He would usually indulge in a very rare drink, or read something other than police reports and criminal files. As a boy, before his parents were killed, he had delighted in mystery novels; his collections of Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Gray Ghost novelizations and, yes, complete set of Hardy Boys first editions were safely tucked away here. But today he simply walked into the bathroom, washed his face and rinsed the sweat from his matted hair before donning his mask again as he made his way back to the elevator. A minute later the elevator came to a halt as Bruce waited for the soft blue light above the doors to come on, indicating that there was no one in the hallway outside. The the wall across from the normal, non-secret elevator opened up to reveal the Batman, who stepped out onto the building's fifth floor before the wall behind him closed again; the panels sliding perfectly into place, concealing the elevator once more. He turned and walked to the end of the hall, stopping in front of the last door to the right before gently knocking. After a few moments he knocked again, listening intently for any sound on the other side of the door. Hearing nothing he tried the handle, alarms going off in his head as he found it was unlocked. With his right hand he pulled a razor sharp batarang from his belt, gripping it almost like a knife and with his left he removed a handful of smoke pellets. He opened the door silently, melting into the shadows as he crept into the apartment. He eyed the kitchen to his left, noting the forgotten teacups on the counter and the red stain on the tiled floor. He thought for a moment it may be blood until the mass spectrometer built into his cowl finished it's scan. His 'detective vision', as Dick Grayson had dubbed it so many years ago, informed him the stain was simply red wine. It seemed someone had spilled it and then, perhaps drunkenly, neglected to clean it up. His gaze shifted to the living room as he moved further into the apartment before he stopped short, dropping his guard completely. He stared in disbelief, first at the empty wheelchair that was parked next to the couch and then at the two women sitting before him. Two bottles of red wine sat empty on the coffee table in front of them, and a third bottle of white was only half full next to those. The credits of the Disney animated Robin Hood movie rolled on the television as Bruce stared wide-eyed at Harley Quinn and the former Batgirl, both wrapped in a large blanket, leaning against one another and sleeping soundly on the couch.

...

**Please review. Also wash your hands, drink plenty of water and don't go to crowded places unless you absolutely have to, stay safe peoples. **


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